


The Fabulous Hulk

by aliccolo (guti)



Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Comedy, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guti/pseuds/aliccolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe he was expecting too much of people.  Or perhaps it was a testament to the modern age they were living in.  Maybe no one actually cared that Bruce Banner was fantasizing about sucking them off at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fabulous Hulk

**Author's Note:**

> Written back in 2010 for the old Marvel kink meme on lj.

Maybe Bruce was naive, but he'd been pretty certain that coming out of the closet would spark some sort of reaction from the people around him. An 'oh my God!', an 'are you kidding?' or even an 'I knew all along'. A validation maybe. Or some ire. Yes, he'd take ire and scorn at this point. But instead, every single person he confided to seemed entirely unimpressed, unfazed, and uncaring. It was like he hadn't said anything about it at all. They all just stared at him, the same way they always did, then went about their business as if he'd just been mouthing the words and not actually saying anything.

Except for Carol and Jan, of course. They seemed to think that this was the greatest thing that could ever happen ever. Instantly there was a cat fight over who got to take him on a 5th Avenue shopping spree first, and suddenly he was swimming in vagina like never before. Which would be great, except he really wasn't interested. At all.

No, he wasn't interested in slumber parties and watching Gone With the Wind and braiding Carol's hair. He was interested in the same things he always was. Physics, mathematical engineering, running from the military, being aloof. And now, also, penis.

Maybe he was expecting too much of people. Or perhaps it was a testament to the modern age they were living in. Maybe no one actually cared that Bruce Banner was fantasizing about sucking them off at night. If that were the case, he should have been more thrilled. Thirty years ago, he might have been gang raped in a shower and ostracized for such a revelation. But these days, coming out was as common as buying a new pair of slacks, or a festive Easter bonnet.

Bruce decided to think of it that way. It was the only thing that made sense. And he didn't think about it anymore until the night of Tony Stark's benefit for spastic dogs.

Bruce was dressed up. Or as dressed up as he could be in his most unwrinkled shirt and least faded dress pants. He had to borrow a dinner jacket from Jarvis. Nothing he was wearing matched, not that he especially noticed. Just because he was now openly gay, that didn't mean he was obsessed with fashion and nonsense like that. He was still the same individual with mussed hair and crooked glasses, tromping into the gala with his hiking boots.

"Bruuuuuce!" The voice echoed across the crowded room, shrill and high above the sounds of conversation and orchestral jazz. "Yoo-hoo!"

Carol was looking fit, wading through the swarms of people in her elegant gown and up-do, Jan right on her heels. "H-hi, ladies," Banner managed, smiling politely at them, begging for some sort of emergency so he could make a quick escape.

"Bruce, I'm shocked you're even here!" Carol sighed, attaching herself to one of his arms. "Parties aren't really your scene, are they? Oh, but I'm so glad you could make it."

Jan nodded in agreement, latching onto his other arm, "Oh me too! It's been so boring without you! Come on, we've got a table with Susan and Wanda all to ourselves! Come on! Let's have some girl talk!"

Before he could even protest, they were dragging him toward their corner table where Wanda and Sue were waving enthusiastically and calling his name. Oh God, why did they flock to him now? Didn't they understand he was the same, average, boring person he'd always been? Bruce sighed, resigned to spending at least a few moments with the girls and being polite, and let himself be led along.

"Pardon me, ladies, may I borrow Doctor Banner for a moment?"

The voice caught him off guard, but he knew it right away. Saved by Iron Man. Thank you Jesus.

The girls nodded, reminding Bruce that he had a seat at their table when he was done before fluttering off, leaving Bruce alone with Tony.

"Good to see you, Tony. What can I do for you?" Bruce asked, visibly relieved to be free from his feminine entrapment.

Always the debonair bullshitter, Stark gave a sharp laugh before whisking two champagne flutes off a passing waiter's tray. "You looked like you could use some rescuing, and I'm always happy to oblige." He offered Bruce one of the glasses, eyebrow raised, winking at him, "A toast?"

Bruce took the champagne, nose wrinkling at the scent. He didn't really drink much, but what harm would a sip do, right? And besides, if the raging alcoholic is drinking also, it can't be that bad. "To?"

"To a brilliant and beautiful tomorrow."

That seemed odd, but Bruce drank to it anyway, putting his glass to his lips just in time for everyone's favorite roaming photographer to snap a picture. Peter and Tony had a chuckle together at Bruce's expense, chuckling over how he'd managed to time the flash just right, and how that photo would be one for the scrap books.

And that might have been the end of it. Except that the party was mysteriously crashed by a rogue wannabe villain, hell bent on preventing spastic dogs from getting research funds, apparently. But in a room filled almost entirely with super-humans and costumed heroes, the moron didn't last too long, being dispatched so suddenly and thoroughly that most of the guests didn't even get a chance to get a decent look at the guy.

Bruce did though. And his heart started racing and his adrenaline started pumping so quickly, that he was completely unable to prevent his transformation. And this was most definitely an even bigger threat to the festivities than one lunatic dog-hater.

"HULK ANGRY!" The green creature yelled, thrashing about in his tattered, mismatched ensemble. "HULK WANT ARMANI! HULK DON'T WANT SSSSECOND HAND PLAID SSSSHIRT! HULK WANT TO LOOK GOOD!" The Hulk sounded especially eloquent for some reason. And he was lisping too. The party-goers seemed to be collectively horrified and unsure of how to react.

"But Hulk, you always dress like--"

"QUIET LITTLE MAN!" Hulk commanded, sort of swishing over to the full length mirrors that accented the dance floor. He had his hands on his hips, making faces at his reflection, studying his appearance intensely. "AND WHAT WRONG WITH HULK'SSSS HAIR? IT SSSSO LASST SSSEASSSON. HULK NEED HI-LIGHTSSS AND A BLOW-OUT, SSSSSTAT!"

The reactions were decidedly confused. If only Banner were conscious or able to witness it, he would have been so pleased to be recognized or noticed. Except that the attention was mostly negative, and aside from the quartet of rabid fag-hags in the corner, the only one presently in the room who seemed to be fascinated, or possibly charmed by the Hulk, was Logan.

But Logan kept his admiration to himself, for now. He didn't act on his sudden, uncontrollable lust until the next day, when he finally cornered the still mortified Banner trying to sew Jarvis's jacket back together, bearing delightful gifts of wine, roses, and a spending card for Dolce and Gabbana.

"Ahem."

Bruce looked up from his forlorn stitching, cheeks burning horribly despite not having said or heard anything embarrassing yet. Yet. Logan was bound to say something terrible, make some sort of inflammatory remark. Everyone else had. Clint had even shown him the evidence from his camera phone. It was all so humiliating. "Whatever you've come to say, just spit it out. I don't have time to listen to it all, I have to fix this jacket before Jarvis realizes what's happened to it."

"I brought you this." Logan seemed uneasy, and Banner was alarmed. He tore his eyes from the Canadian's perpetually stubbly face and eyed the items in his arms. Cabernet? A dozen red roses? What the hell?

"What the hell, Logan?"

Logan coughed, looking almost sheepish, retreating back a step toward the doorway. He could hear Bruce's heartbeat increasing, he sensed an impending Hulk-out. Which, really, wouldn't be so bad, considering his new found adoration for the big green behemoth. Except, you know, the pain that was usually associated with such episodes. "I brought this for him."

"For the Hulk?" Banner stood, sewing cast aside, eyes wide with...well, not anger, but surprise, certainly. "But why? Why would you give him presents? He's horrible!"

Wolverine fidgeted with his bounty, like he was trying to phrase it all just so. "He's not horrible. He's amazing. And so assertive. He knows what he wants in life. And now...now I know what I want. I want him. I want you!"

This was just too much. Logan was obviously faking. Barton was probably out in the hall waiting with his stupid cell phone to capture the moment, and if Barton wasn't, then Parker surely would be. Those bastards, those horrible bastards, trying to insult him and make fun of him! Bruce wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. He gave Logan a hard, angry shove as he pushed past, ignoring the bewildered, hurt expression in the Canadian's eyes, storming out of the building and onto the sidewalk, where he sat down to calm himself down.

"You look like you could use a friend."

Bruce nearly jumped at the voice from behind him. That same voice that had come to his aid the night before. "Hello Tony."

Stark let out a soft laugh, sitting on the sidewalk beside him. Sitting a little closer than he should have, perhaps. "You seem to have the weight of the world on your shoulders, Bruce. And that's a hell of a burden to be carrying alone. I know. I've tried."

He didn't bother interrupting or asking for clarification of any kind. If Stark wanted to pontificate, Banner would let him.

"No one should have to walk through life all alone. Especially not someone as dazzling as you are."

Bruce blinked, head turning quickly toward Tony, face aghast with something resembling terror. "What are you--"

"Marry me," Tony crooned, point blank, whipping out the most gargantuan diamond and emerald ring from seemingly nowhere, "I'm in love with you. I've always been in love with you, even before I knew you were attracted to men. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. We can drive to New England and be married tomorrow, you and I can run my company together, making technologies the world has never dreamt of, and at night, we can make sweet, harmonious love until the dawn pours in through the window and bathes us in the morning glow. Marry me, Bruce. Make me the happiest man alive!"

Most of that didn't even register with him, he was too busy backing away from the other man, scrambling to his feet, instinct telling him to run away as quickly as he could. If he ran, he might avoid transforming. God only knew what the Hulk would have said to such an indecent proposal. Panting hard, he ran as quickly as he could, mindful not to overexert, making it a good five blocks or so before he stopped, leaning against a wall, catching his breath.

He could feel scornful eyes on him.

"I'm concerned about this."

Bruce's head flicked to the direction of the voice, starting suddenly when he realized he was inches away from Tim Gunn. Oh God. Oh God. Fashion's biggest icon. Every gay man's idol. Even his, even though he didn't care about fashion or any of that crap. Tim freaking Gunn. Standing there. Staring at him in the most judgmental way possible.

"I'm just not seeing how anyone could make this work," the man continued, stroking his chin as he looked Banner over. "This concerns me. It's a total mess."

Bruce looked down at his clothing. A faded red plaid shirt and some worn khakis. It wasn't the worst outfit he owned, but he supposed it didn't compare to the tailored, perfect lines of what Tim Gunn was used to. And for some reason, Bruce was both embarrassed and confused by why he even cared. "I'm sorry?"

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to Andre. You've made the poor man ill." And low and behold, just to the side of Tim Gunn was a well-dressed, vomiting fellow. Tim Gunn offered his nauseated companion his handkerchief before whisking him away. "Come now, let's get you some ceviche."

He might have had a chance to be more horrified if his cell phone hadn't started ringing just then. Without bothering to check the caller, he flipped his phone open.

"Oh Bruce! Thank God you answered! We've got to get out of here, quickly!"

"C-Carol? Is that you?"

Her voice was hushed, like she was whispering into her phone, with a slight dash of giddiness thrown in. "Yes, yes. The girls and I have to get out of here! This whole place has gone insane!"

He was on edge now, actually worried for those stupid women, even though he was sure they could take care of themselves. Hurriedly, he started power-walking back in the direction he came from. "What's going on? Where are you?"

"Tony and Logan started fighting. And then...and then..." She was giggling obnoxiously, then it suddenly faded. It took a moment before Bruce realized she had taken the phone away from her face and was now holding it toward something, or someone making loud, erotic moaning sounds. "Can you hear them? They're having sex on the sofa. And everyone is just standing around watching. Oh, it's so awful! Bruce! Bruce! Can't we meet you somewhere? A cafe? A KFC? Anywhere that isn't here?"

There really wasn't anything he could say to what he'd just overheard. Even without having actually witnessed the act, he was horrified, and his brain was scarred from the mental image. He couldn't imagine how horrified everyone else was. He needed to rescue those women, and fast. He could worry over his dismissal and judgement by Tim Gunn some other time. Looking around the street for a cafe or a KFC, he came up empty handed. But he did come up with an alternative. "Meet me at Kim's Nails. Three blocks south."

There would be no resolution to this saga today, Bruce realized as much. But at least the next time the Hulk reared his fabulous head, he wouldn't be able to complain about his nail care regimen.


End file.
